


Broken

by Pruspace



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Also my first ever fanfiction, Angst, Brief rusame, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, sorry for any mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5097404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pruspace/pseuds/Pruspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England thought he was used to the pain of war but never had he been more wrong.</p><p>Nation England<br/>Human America</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first ever fanfiction that I originally wrote for my sister before she asked me to post it online. Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. This is also probably really bad.

England breathed harshly, back plastered against the oozing wall of the trench. His eyes flickered to the right, where the violent remnants of a grenade explosion lay. To the left, poisonous gas, wafting and clawing with its venomous talons, leaving choking bodies in its wake. 

clutching his mangled rifle to his chest he stalked slowly along the safer route, carefully avoiding the limbs scattered amongst the debris.

His eyes froze as he saw a cowering figure, trembling within a barrage of lifeless corpses. England would have ignored it, if it wasn't for the stubborn strand of hair protruding from the mans helmet. England walked slowly towards the familiar man, breathing ragged breaths as he sensed the poisonous gas, following achingly slowly from behind.

Blank, pale blue eyes, stared up at England through matted golden hair. Conveying no tell-tale emotions. The man was Lieutenant Alfred F. Jones. England first met the boy when he was recruited, back when he was all sunshiney grins and flirtatious winks. That Alfred- the Alfred that never failed to bring a smile to England's strict persona, the one that England, despite his innermost conflictions, had fallen deathly in love with.

The younger mind silently beckoned the Brit closer, with a sharp jab of his head. Obeying, England followed. He was only slightly aware of the ringing of raging weaponry and cries of anguish, the man he loved was in trouble... Nothing else mattered. As he drew near, the nation noticed, with chilling horror, the thick trail blood trickling between thick, calloused fingers. A chocked sob escaped from chapped lips as England tossed his rifle to the ground, and staggered over to the lieutenant, mouth gaping in disbelief.

"Oh God, Jones..."

Bloody teeth chattered in a breathless chuckle, pain filled eyes regarding England with barely disguised fear

"... Hey there... Artie." He gasped.

"Don't call methat!" hot tears already pooling at sore eyes.

"Oh come now Artie, don't cry. It's barely a scratch." Alfred offered the nation a small smile, but the notion was lost under a violent wince.

The elder man placed his hands over Alfred's, holding back a sob at the icy touch.

"hey... old man, can you do me a favour?" Alfred huffed through a teary smile.

"what?" 

Alfred slipped his hands out from under England's and rifled through his pocket, drawing from it, a crumpled paper... Now stained with blood. He carefully unfolded the parchment, revealing a photograph of a beautiful young woman with almost white hair that curled perfectly around her waist. She wore a sickly sweet smile on her face and seemed to be standing in a field of... Sunflowers?

"This is Anya... She's my girlfriend , isn't she pretty? I was planning on proposing to her when I got back... B-but I guess now I won't have the chance" stated Alfred, voice cracking pitifully, his dull eyes began to droop tiredly. 

England stiffened, a dull ache throbbing in his chest. He offered no reply, he simply continued to stare. His eyes, now burning with fresh tears.  
"I... Was wonderin' if you could write to her, you know, because I- you know."

England watched in numb agony as Alfred's breathing began to wrack his chest. "I'll do it" he croaked.  
Alfred smiled, dragging England deeper and deeper into his infatuation. 

"Thank you Arthur..." Alfred's eyes were closed, his lips were blue and trembling. His breathing jagged like a scabbard. Until suddenly it stopped.

England- No Arthur stood on weak legs. Knees shaking profusely... He had to survive, he had a letter to deliver and a promise to be kept. Alfred was a human. And that's what humans do.  
They die.

But that didn't mean that the immense pain in Arthur heart was any less bearable.


End file.
